Shattered Ice
by daymarket
Summary: Oneshot Counterpart to Silver Pup's White Roses. Third and final look into Morzan's journal during his years with Selena. REVIEW!


**The final installment to the Ice trilogy, counterparting the wonderful Silver Pup's Roses trilogy. Basically, Morzan/Selena's POVs of their years together. And a bit after. Until they kick the bucket, that is. Read and REVIEW!**

_**Day 30 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

I think I've been walking on air these past few days, or else extremely stunned. Murtagh has grown very visibly, from a wrinkly little red lump to some...well, to my child. Our child, that is. Clearly, he has Selena's eyes, but I can see Evelyn's smile in him. His face is most likely still too young to be sure, but I flatter myself that he has my nose and mouth. His hair is dark brown, with Selena's silkiness to it and slightly lighter tints to it that look almost exactly like my brother's. He's perfect, the most beautiful child I could've hoped for.

I'm doting. I'm doting, aren't I? I know this might sound rather silly, but I'm afraid to let him out of my sight. Such perfection can't be true, can it? And Murtagh is yet only a child. A baby. Selena, after all, is already an adult. She can protect herself somewhat. But Murtagh? He's so young, so easy...so easy to disappear. So easy to corrupt.

Illogical, isn't it? I can't help but wonder if this is what fatherhood truly _is_. Not that my sick bastard father ever understood that.

_**Day 35 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

I woke up today to find both my son and my wife sleeping in my bed. For a moment, it was almost disorienting, a snapshot of the past that did not belong in the present. Selena could be my mother, her face not yet burdened with the pain of being Farinson's wife. Murtagh would be...well, Murtagh. Evelyn and Hestia would be absent—absent but alive, just waiting to surprise us with breakfast.

While I wax poetic about memory, reality was not as painful to be expected when it finally hit. It's different. Different, but also whole in its own way.

Mornings make me philosophical, don't they?

_**Day 40 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Aderes met Murtagh for the first time today. Characteristically, that overgrown lizard's first comment was something along the lines of, _How scrawny. Are you_sure_he's yours?_

That aside, I do believe that Aderes has taken to Murtagh. All day long I've had to put up with conversations that reroute continually towards Murtagh, and small conversational quips in my head. Not that it's unpleasant, of course, but I find it rather amusing that Aderes seems more obsessed about Murtagh than even I. And truly, that's saying something.

Yes, Aderes, I know. It's a miracle that a sour old codger like me could've fathered something so soft and sweet. For the fifth time, good _night_.

_**Day 44 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

A messenger came to Norwood earlier; Galbatorix wishes to see me. I have a nagging suspicion that it will result in a long assignment. If it does, I'll just have to figure something out to delay it. I don't want to leave until Murtagh is stronger.

I'll take Selena with me to the palace, I think. It will do us both good to leave Norwood for a little while; besides, Galbatorix might understand the hint that I wish to involve myself more domestically for the time being. He's very good at picking up such things, after all.

_**Day 45 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Well, well, well.

So this is Selena's fiancée. How interesting. I can certainly see why she would want to leave such a lecherous bastard. Unfortunately, it seems that when it comes down to it, Lord Aithril has no balls for this kind of thing.

Literally, I'm afraid. Poor fellow seems rather distressed. I should do something to ease his pain. After all, never let it be known that I'm not considerate.

_**Day 47 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Blast it! I've only remembered just now. I have to return to the palace tomorrow; there's been a series of odd attacks near Narda. It may be nothing, or the work of the Varden. In any case, Oreal and Tiriac have charge of it for now.

Oh, and Lord Aithril? I'm afraid he's a bit inconvenienced. Losing multiple body functions can do that to you.

_**Day 48 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Taron is dead.

We found his body in Rispah's tower, curled up against the dragon's talons. Suicide, it looks like. The reason is clear—Taron was heavily in debt, and I hear that he had taken to drinking. Poor sod couldn't keep his wits together.

Five of us left. True, Taron's death was caused by something rather more mundane than a heroic death by the Varden's hands, but nevertheless, five. Five out of Thirteen. As Riders, we are expected to live for all eternity. Well, perhaps not _all_ eternity, but certainly a good chunk of it. But now? Not a full century has passed and already the majority of us are gone.

The thought is humbling, somehow.

_**Day 50 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

There has been another attack, further south down the coast. Two men were captured, but they killed themselves rather than give up their secrets. Oreal reports indications that they will move further towards Teirm. For what purpose, I'm not too sure yet.

Anyway, there's no reason to assume it's anything similar to Varden work yet. For one, there's no reason why they should be attacking Narda and/or Teirm, because it's the middle of retniw and there's barely any shipping going on in those northern ports. Piracy, perhaps? But for what purpose? Like I said, it's hardly lucrative.

In any case, it's not my problem. Oreal, nitwit though he is, should be able to handle it capably. Unless, of course, it really does turn out to be a Varden operation and flares into battle. Hopefully, if that comes around, Galbatorix will see sense enough to replace him.

_**Day 52 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

I brought Murtagh out to see Aderes again today when Selena was asleep. At last, someone exists in this world that can bring out the nonexistent soft side of that dragon. At one point, Aderes was actually cooing as Murtagh clambered over his tail.

Yes, you _were_, Aderes. Don't try to deny it; I know what I heard. Anyway, it not necessarily a bad thing, now is it? It's good to know that there's something soft underneath all those prickles.

On another note, I have to return to the palace tomorrow. A small village at the base of the Coastal Mountains was attacked; four people have died. It does just seem like a random act of violence, or perhaps bandits—why would the Varden burn a small hunting village?—but in any case, it must be stopped.

_**Day 54 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

What _is_ all this? I've been digging through the latest sheaf of 'reports' from Oreal, if you can call it that. More like a blizzard of random papers thrown together by caprice and whimsy. The notes are scrawled, some of them blurred, and some of them looking as if dogs chewed on them and spat them back out.

The messenger who brought them lies half-dead in an infirmary of the palace. Attempts to contact Oreal or his dragon have been unsuccessful, and we can't so much as scry them anywhere. Then again, Oreal most likely has protected himself from scrying as have the most of us, so that's not very surprising.

Another Rider must be sent, since Oreal has vanished to gods-know-where. Another Rider will have to take care of the mess he created. Most likely it will be me.

I don't want—well, I don't know what I want. I _would_ like to stay a little bit longer—with Selena and Murtagh, with Norwood—at least until gnirps starts, but this is duty. It's what I swore to do, in my oaths of loyalty to the crown. Galbatorix _will_send another Rider if I ask, but...well, I don't know.

It feels almost cowardly.

_**Day 55 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

I think he sensed my discomfort, but in the end Galbatorix sent Paris. Paris and Nia leave tomorrow for the coast, to sort out the situation in my place.

As a compromise—I will remain here at Norwood, but will head for Uru'baen in the mornings to aid Galbatorix in the matter. It's not perfect, and in a way I still do feel like a coward, but it's the best as to be hoped under the circumstances.

Just till gnirps starts. If the situation has not improved by the time the new season rolls around, I will go.

_**Day 57 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Selena gave me two letters today to send to her family. Surprisingly, one is addressed to her father. I suppose there must be more than simple "I hate you" ranting enclosed in there, since it seems rather lengthy.

Mail caravans are notoriously unreliable; the letters might never get there. I'll have to do it myself, but I don't know _when_ I'll find time to send them—maybe enroute as I head to the coast?

I'll find time, somehow. Or I'll find a messenger to send them, one that's been spelled enough to be trustworthy. Yet another promise to add the growing list of duties. Speaking of duty, I have to return to Uru'baen later. A messenger arrived about an hour ago; there's been another attack. This time barely three miles from Teirm—two men dead.

I should've gone. Paris can't handle something like this, the fool...

_**Day 58 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Paris managed to capture one of them and get enough information out him. He _claims_ to be from the Varden, but the question is, _why_? Why would the Varden conduct a series of completely random attacks in a season that's not famous for its fantastic trading? What is the _point_? It sounds just too hackneyed and doesn't make any sense. I think the man is lying, but Paris appears to believe all the rubbish the prisoner spouted.

I _knew_ I should've gone. But then, I find myself thinking that if I _had_ gone, I'd worry anyway for leaving Selena and Murtagh unprotected. Either way, headaches abound.

It's too late for second thoughts. Galbatorix can't recall Paris without more evidence of incompetence than just my instincts. I'll just have to wait for gnirps to roll around, damn it.

_**Day 59 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

I need to stop.

Reviewing on these past two days, I think I have been distracted, slapdash, and generally rushed. Not just with Galbatorix, but also with Selena and Murtagh. If I have chosen to stay home, then I might as well make the best of it. I haven't even _seen_ Murtagh these past two days except for early morning and late at night. And both times he tends to be asleep, anyway.

I will stay home today. That's a start, isn't it?

_**Day 60 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

So much for my promise to relax. A messenger has arrived bearing a note with a distinct note of displeasure. I must return to Uru'baen.

_**Day 61 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Paris has lost the trail of the so-called Varden rebels. Apparently, Paris followed the prisoner's advice and got himself lost in a bog near Teirm. The man commited suicide laughing in his face, and Paris is currently having a whiny temper tantrum.

So, now we wait. We wait for them to show up with their next theft or attack. Or perhaps, they'll just disappear completely now and we have nothing to show for the deaths and expense put into chasing them. Wonderful, isn't it?

I have charts and maps of Teirm and the surrounding areas. Based on their past routes and habits, I think that they won't actually hit the city itself, but the cluster of small villages near Woadark Lake are vulnerable. Or, they might do an about-face and hit Sharktooth. I'll have to plot it out to be sure.

_**Later**_

A messenger from Norwood has arrived—Murtagh is sick, badly so.

I've got to go. These bandits, rebels, whatever, can wait.

_**Day 62 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

He'll be fine. He'll be fine! It was pneumonia—bad, but nothing that magic can't heal. If I hadn't been here, if I had gone to the coast and hadn't been back in time, he would've died—I would've lost my son, my child, my...

Family. That's a duty, too, one that I should think has equal balance with loyalty to the crown. It's not something to be set aside for more convenient times, not some interesting trinket to play with and then forget.

I can't forget that. I _won't_ forget it.

_**Day 63 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Snow fell today, the first good snowfall we've had all retniw. We didn't go out into the snow on the grounds that Murtagh might fall ill again, so instead we had the fireplace lit. Murtagh discovered the sticky pleasure of marshmallows, much to everybody's amusement, and Selena curled up near the fireplace with a book in hand.

As for me? Well, I gave Murtagh a bath after the marshmallow episode. He was a mess, with sticky white all over his stubby hair and gooey fingers. He was laughing throughout the entire thing, splashing water and wriggling about without a care in the world for wet tunics or dignity.

You know, I can't completely believe that he is my son. That I could father such childlike innocence. Murtagh is so young, so...free.

I will have to answer for this tomorrow, with Galbatorix. No summons have come, but I was supposed to leave for Uru'baen again today. But this time dedicated to—to family, to Norwood—it's wonderful. Something that I won't regret, no matter what price I must pay for my negligence of duty.

_**Day 64 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

I went to Uru'baen today expecting to be given a lecture on duty, loyalty, and responsibility. But every single time I think I know how to predict Galbatorix's reaction, I am proven wrong.

He wasn't angry or upset—the expression on his face, I think, can be best described as amusement. He commented offhand that he never quite expected me to become a family man, but it wasn't altogether such an unpleasant change.

As I was busy wondering whether that held negative or positive connotations, he continued talking. I needn't return to Uru'baen unless something truly urgent comes out. Paris, for good or for ill, will control the situation. My—for lack of a better term—'vacation' will last until gnirps. Then, I am expected to honor the compromise I made.

I didn't know what to say then, and I still am not quite sure what to say now. Is this punishment? Or reward? Or some combination of the two? In a way, I _am_pleased...but also, a little confused.

_**Day 65 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

So, here I am in Norwood. It's a beautiful, retniw day out there, with the air striking the perfect balance between cool and cold. Charts on the table, maps on the wall, Selena and Murtagh in the bedroom. Still asleep, may I add.

The raids not my responsibility anymore until gnirps—and besides, this will most likely be the only 'vacation' like this that I will get for a long time. I may as well treasure this while I can, in any case.

I think I could get used to this.

_**Day 68 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Today, Selena asked me about magic. She was quite persistent about it, actually, to the point that answers such as, "Maybe later" or "it doesn't matter" don't fly. It's an intriguing idea, though. But not everybody has a talent for magic—it might not work out.

Selena has that _look_ on her face—I have a distinct feeling that the subject will come up again.

_**Day 69 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

No, the subject has not been dropped at all. Selena asked me yesterday night and today, and that's why I'm in the library, looking for those spellbooks that I know are there but can never find.

The thing is, you must have an innate talent for magic. Otherwise, not even the best teachers in the world can ever help you. Is there a way to be certain? I seem to recall a diagnosis spell that should do it. If I can find it, that is.

_**Day 72 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

I found them. Not in the library. They were actually tucked in one of the storage rooms, underneath a pile of clothes that haven't been worn since the beginning of eternity. The books themselves are readable, if a bit musty.

I found the testing spell. I'll try it out sometime; see if it works before I bring up the subject of magic again.

_**Day 74 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

It worked. Not very well, yes, but it worked.

Well, that settles it, I suppose. There're only two weeks or so before the season ends; not enough time to start formal training. Maybe when I return...

Speaking of which, I haven't gotten reports of any sort from Uru'baen for days now. The raids are over, perhaps? Paris has succeeded? Unlikely as it is.

I'm not going to worry. There will be plenty of time to worry in the new season. I have been relieved of my duties, however politely, and they are not my concern.

_**Day 76 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

It snowed again today, a beautiful spread of white blanketing Norwood. This time, we brought Murtagh out with us (against Selena's half-hearted protests, of course!). Bundling him up inside enough blankets that he looked like a giant snowball, Murtagh finally experienced the beauty that is snow.

It made me laugh, I admit. Murtagh tried to eat some of the snow—or lick it, rather, since his arms were a little bit inconvenienced inside all those blankets. He ended up getting a faceful of it and had such a look of surprise as it melted down his face.

Then, of all things, _Aderes_ joined us. Aderes, the royal grump who despises snow even more than he hates idiots. Shocking. Later, we went to his tower roost where Selena and I watched Murtagh scramble over Aderes's tail and admire the look of steady patience adorning that dragon's face.

All in all, a wonderful day.

_**Day 79 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Murtagh is growing so quickly. I know, he's not even a season old, but I swear I can see him growing before my eyes.

He's so young. So...untouched. There are so many paths in the world that he might take, so many different ways. Will he, too, become a Rider? Or will he become somebody else, molded by the world into a different life other than the one I lead—a farmer? A hunter? A politician?

If life continues as it does, I don't think I'll be there for much of his growing up. But for what I can, for how I can...I will protect him. Watch him. Even more than Selena, my duty lies with him. And also, my love.

_**Day 82 of Retniw, 370 AR**_

Gnirps is drawing nearer, and soon this idyllic rest will end. I have been preparing for whatever should await me at Uru'baen, whatever mess that Paris has made.

If I'm lucky, then Paris has fixed the mess, captured the raiders, and all will be well. If not, Paris will have gotten himself killed and there will be a big bloody mess. Well, I suppose I'd be lucky if Paris got killed anyway. He was always a bit of an idiot.

That aside...I do hope it won't take too long, whatever it is.

_**Day 2 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

It's a mixed bag of news, with a ribbon of chaos tying it all off. First, Oreal has been found. Or what's left of him, anyway. Paris is alive at Uru'baen but disgraced—apparently, he misread the signs, trusted the wrong person, and ended up having nearly all his men drowned in quicksand and/or arrow-shot with nothing to show for it.

It's not the Varden, like I thought. It's pirates-slash-bandits, depending on the season. They're roosted on Sharktooth, which is notorious for bogs and swamps. And quicksand, of course. Now that the new season is upon us, I'm to get rid of them. They're bad for shipping, after all, and demoralizing in the cities' faith in the crown to keep their ports safe.

Six companies of soldiers should do it. I need maps of the terrain, though, and the most recent dates about twenty years ago. Who knows what might have changed since then? I'll have to search for more recent ones, then.

_**Day 3 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

Found maps dating back thirty, forty, even an old moth-eaten one that goes all the way back to sixty years ago with little rustic 'heere be Monstyers' written on it. Not exactly helpful.

_**Day 4 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

I can't delay any longer. Even under the best of conditions, it will take me a day and half to get to Teirm plateau. The governor has promised us seven companies of men to fight with. Ships will take another day to sail, and I need to do a sortie over the land before doing anything else.

Calculated time? Two or three weeks, at least. I will say goodbye to Selena and Murtagh later. I should set up some way for them to contact me should anything go wrong...

No. They'll be fine. It's only a few weeks, after all.

_**Day 6 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

It has been raining foully all day. Aderes is sulking because he had to fly in this disgusting weather, and I'm none too pleased either. The ships cannot sail in this weather for fear of a storm.

On a slightly better note, I have been scrying. Aderes took me for a brief flight over Sharktooth, and I have enough that I can scry their current activites and clandestine ports. Apparently, the pirates cannot sail either. What a surprise.

I do hope everything is all right at Norwood. Perhaps it's just the terminal boredom, but I worry that something is wrong.

_**Day 7 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

The southern end of Sharktooth is lined with craggy rocks underwater, but it is the least guarded of all of them. We'll attack from there—the sailing will be difficult, but we're not in any particular hurry. The rain has left, leaving a dense fog in its place. I should be able to clear that away with magic, though, especially in the area where we are now.

We set sail in a few hours. If all goes well, we should land on Sharktooth by tomorrow night.

_**Day 9 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

We have landed—it was difficult, given the tendency of the underwater rocks to impale the ships. Still, we're here, and the pirates apparently suspect nothing. They have not even attempted to sail.

Attack tomorrow.

_**Day 12 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

Six dead. The rest of the pirates have been bundled up for royal justice, to be transported back to Uru'baen.

It was surprisingly easy, actually. They were caught completely unawares, and barely put up any sort of defense. Only two men died on our side.

All that's left is clean up, I suppose. See if there were any others who escaped our net before returning. The pirates have left sizable amounts of loot behind—coins, mostly, but also odd heaps of jewelry and random trinkets. That will need to be gathered, too, and taken back to Uru'baen.

It will be about five more days before I can return to Norwood.

_**Day 16 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

Transporting a group of surly, escape-prone pirates is easier said than done, but I only had to take them to Teirm, after all. Somewhat of a relief. Guards will bring them back to Uru'baen eventually, after Teirm is done with them.

Most of the loot will be catalogued before returning to those who have legitimate claims. Admittedly, a small fraction of it has been slipped discreetly into the soldiers' pockets. I myself am guilty; I have taken a small butterfly clip for Selena.

I should find something for Murtagh, too. Teirm has good craftsmen. I'll look there later before returning home.

_**Day 17 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

Aderes and I have returned to Norwood. Nothing bad has happened in my absence—Murtagh has grown, but then again he seems to grow every minute I watch him. The manor is fine, Selena is fine, and Murtagh—well, he's wonderful. No need to worry, after all. They can handle themselves quite capably.

I gave Selena the butterfly clip, and it does look quite beautiful in her hair. For Murtagh, I gave him the horn I found in Teirm's markets—white horn, gilded with gold. He seems to think it's some kind of a cup, which makes for an amusing sight as he tries to drink water out of it while the other end leaks into his lap.

I know I say this every time I come back, but it holds ever deeper connotations for me now. It truly is wonderful to be home.

_**Day 20 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

Selena's first magic lesson took place today. Or magic history lesson, really. I think I may have hit her with a little too much information, unloading the entire history of magic, the ancient language, the Grey Folk, the Riders, and everything else onto her. The dazed look on her face as she left her room was something of an indication.

I wonder how far she'll be able to progress? As she's not a Rider, there'll be limits, of course, to just how much sheer power she can pull out. But still, not everything in magic is about power. A lot of it is in subltety, accomplishing massive things by a few delicate triggers. In that area, I do think she'll be able to achieve quite a lot.

_**Day 23 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

We took Murtagh out to the secret valley today. The wildflowers were blooming in riots of color, and Murtagh was laughing nearly the entire time. While I taught Selena some more of the longbow, he busied himself by pulling the feathers off my arrows and digging holes with the tips in the dirt.

I couldn't even be angry, really. The look on his face, the joyous innocence—the air of happiness he carried around him was contagious, almost.

_**Day 30 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

I've been staying at Norwood these days—teaching Selena archery and magic, playing with Murtagh, and watching over them. Selena's magic lessons are progressing wonderfully. Well, with a few mishaps on the way. Like I said, she advances furthest when it comes to subtle variations—bending water, shaping fire, moving stones.

I want to take Murtagh flying on Aderes one day. I really do think that he will be a Rider one day—he and Aderes connect well. Or perhaps it's just wishful thinking and Aderes has become soft in his old age. Whatever.

I have had no summons from Uru'baen lately, which is somewhat relieving and yet a little bit perplexing.

_**Day 38 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

Oh, gods.

I have not thought about my father for so long. I thought I had used up all my anger against him, that I had finally laid the memories to rest. But I haven't. They don't leave. They stay buried within your mind, waiting for you to uncover the sharp edges of their pain.

Yesterday, Selena asked me about the scar that I bear on my neck. My father's token of his love for me, say. And at that moment...it was as if I was eleven, thirteen, fifteen again. Hearing their voices again. Hearing my siblings die, hearing my mother die, while I alone survived. Fate's funny like that, isn't it? I find it incredibly ironic that the only one to survive the murderer is a murderer himself.

I told Selena this. I told her. I told her what I have never been able to tell anyone aside from Galbatorix. About my family, about my mother. About my father, and about me. That I, at fifteen years, killed my father for killing my family.

For killing me.

_**Day 39 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

When I married Selena, I took an oath to protect her. To love her, to cherish her. To that end, I will keep to my vows, protecting both she and Murtagh to whatever ends are required. Both of them deserve better, to live in as untainted a world as I can offer.

My family is dead. The years go by, and even the strongest magic won't bring them back. But I won't lose their memory—I won't lose them by dishonoring them. To protect and to cherish—if nothing, I learned that from them.

I refuse to let the past happen again.

_**Day 40 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

We went to the secret valley, the three of us together. Aderes joined us a little while later, settling into the valley with a thump. Murtagh played with the flowers, while Selena and I leaned against Aderes, watching the sun set. There were no words to clutter the silence, no troubles to be recalled.

I...maybe the anger will never truly leave. There will always be some residue of hatred, a curse upon my father's name. But for my mother, for my sisters, for my brother...?

I think—I think I can let them go. Let their souls rest in peace.

_**Day 44 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

It rained today, a light drizzle that stretched through most of the day. I was prepared to stay inside all day, but Selena took my hand and urged me out into the garden.

Like the other time that Selena brought me out into the rain, we danced. Somehow, though, it wasn't awkward or embarrassing as the phrase may lead you to believe. It felt...right, somehow. As if that were the only thing that truly mattered.

_**Day 47 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

All good things must end...I leave tomorrow for Surda. There's going to be a treaty meeting at Aberon, to establish what is being grandly heralded as "a pact between two nations to promote cooperation, stability, and prosperity among their peoples."

Orlane and Termain, as well as Aderes and I, will represent the Empire, as well as dozens of clerks, officials, nobilities, and whatnot. Should be a ravishing affair.

_**Day 49 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

At least they know how to hold a banquet, if nothing else. Upon our arrival in Surda, we were treated to the most excessive display of wealth and groveling hospitality that would put any noble to shame.

Perhaps I've grown plain and rustic, but I find myself longing for good old Norwood fare. I'd forgotten just how odd exotic dishes can get—larks' tongues in aspic, smoked salmon in mango juice. I didn't even know larks had tongues, really.

The talks begin tomorrow.

_**Day 51 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

Well, not anything particularly noteworthy. Long, flowery speeches about how they'll do this but won't do that. Gemsworth, our official ambassador to Surda, does most of the talking. His multitudes of assistants pop in a word here or there, and the armies of clerks are always busy scribbling something in illegible handwriting.

And I? I sit around and look intimidating. What fun.

_**Day 54 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

Not much is new. The talks are progressing with all the speed and fervor of a half-dead tortoise. Aderes seems as bored as I; he amuses his time in Surda seeing how high he can fly into the clouds.

How long before I can return to Norwood? To Murtagh, and to Selena?

_**Day 59 of Gnirps, 371 AR**_

The treaty talks are winding up...temporarily. A temporary resolution has been reached and accepted by both sides. Which most likely means there will be another flurry of long-winded, dull speeches sometime in the near future, but for now it means I am released from the terminal monotony.

Aderes and I are returning to Norwood.

_**Day 61 of Gnrips, 371 AR**_

We're back! Selena, Murtagh, and I spent the whole day in Aderes's tower exchanging news.

_**Day 64 of Gnrips, 371 AR**_

Galbatorix seems pleased with how the treaty talks have turned out. He was rather amused by my one-page account of the goings-on in Surda, detailing the wonderful time I had.

The next talks are set sometime next season. Yes, sadly I will have to go in order to properly impress them. Still, at least I have the consolation that that's a season away, and Galbatorix has promised that there will be no more missions before then.

_**Day 67 of Gnrips, 371 AR**_

The messenger I sent out with Selena's letters has returned. He brings with him a ring, engraved with the letters _BB_—Selena's father's ring. Her father and brother are dead, he reports.

Selena has not left her room since.

_**Day 68 of Gnrips, 371 AR**_

I've given orders for her to be left alone. Murtagh will stay with me with the time being.

She needs time to grieve on her own, I think.

_**Day 73 of Gnrips, 371 AR**_

It's been a week now, and Selena hasn't even left her room. I can hear her crying all the time, but more often than not there's just silence. Blank, dull silence that carries a thousand meanings.

I'll wait another week before trying to cajole her out.

_**Day 80 of Gnrips, 371 AR**_

I went in. I tried to convince her to come out, to visit her garden. As no one has been allowed to touch it, weeds have run wild. It would make her feel better, to be out in the fresh air...

At that, she started crying again. Between tears, she said that it would remind her of Garrow, her brother. Of when they played in the garden together, amongst their mother's flowers.

I don't know what to do. Perhaps she just needs more time? But this can't be healthy...Murtagh needs her. Yesterday, he was asking me why his mother didn't want to see him anymore.

_**Day 84 of Gnrips, 371 AR**_

She came out! Admittedly, only to see Murtagh, but it's a start. It's an improvement. Perhaps I can get her out into the garden next. The exercise, with nature around her—that would do her good, wouldn't it?

_**Day 1 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Selena went out into the gardens today, and a much healthier complexion came into her face after a few minutes in the open air. Aderes sat himself firmly in the garden and watched Selena constantly, an expression between nausea and cool boredom on his face. Kind of like a cat coughing up a hairball.

It's wonderful to see her out. Murtagh scrambled to join her, crawling into her lap as she sat in the gardens.

_**Day 9 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Murtagh has learned to crawl, much to Selena and I's delight and to the servants' dismay. He has an uncanny knack for getting himself dirty, be it from mud or honey. Triannon in particular commented that if nobody washed him for a week, you could grow beets in the dirt you'd wash off him.

Selena seems better now, having made her peace with death.

_**Day 14 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Selena's pregnant?

She's _pregnant?_ How? The new healer, whatever her name is, told me just today, but how is that possible? Yes, the acts of baby-making were quite plentiful, but I surely would have known if she were. A pregnant woman _feels_ a certain way, and Selena is decidedly un-pregnant to that instinct.

Huh. How odd.

_**Day 19 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Do pregnant women usually get fevers and are unable to get out of bed? Do they have difficulty breathing and sharp pain in the abdomen? Yet that healer seems certain, and is not shy about broadcasting this opinion to ignorant _men_.

I asked Triannon, and she also seemed doubtful. Besides, I don't recall any of this happening to Selena while she was pregnant with Murtagh.

_**Day 29 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Her condition is getting worse. She's had horrible headaches and abdomen pain these past few days. Something's wrong, but I'm not trained enough in the area of medicine to tell.

_**Day 31 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

So it _is_ something bad! It took long enough to figure it out, don't you think? Something's growing in Selena's womb, but it's not a baby. A malignant growth of some kind…why didn't that useless healer tell me sooner?

I can't handle something like this. I need to find a _good_ healer, somebody with enough control and specialization to identify and cure it properly. Perhaps Galbatorix? But I went through the same training as him; our teachers never mentioned anything specific about curing the female anatomy.

I'll ask anyway. Maybe he knows something. Somebody. _Anything!_

_**Day 32 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

He doesn't. The problem is, none of our teachers prepared us to be in a situation like this, where the more delicate parts of a woman would be set ill by something from the inside. I could try—but if something went wrong, if I accidentally used the wrong words or said the wrong spell, I might end up killing her...

The only ones I can think of who have enough knowledge to do this would be the elves, but gods know they'd never help, curse them. Rudimentary spellcasters? One of the—no, they're not trained properly for this...

_**Day 34 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

I have been searching inside the royal library, and I've found a few texts that refer to the thing inside Selena. It's a parasite. A cluster of parasites that feed off the host and reproduce every few days, growing in size. The book had these ghastly illustrations of people with huge growths wobbling on their arms or legs. I can only suppose it's because they are inside her womb, that she has similar signs to pregnancy. It kills by sucking all the nutrition out of its host, essentially starving it to death in anywhere from a few weeks to two or three months.

A potion called Orvere Das'ra kills it, but I can't find a recipe for the blasted thing. None of the books concerning potions or herbs ever mention it, either. So why the hell do they mention it, anyway, if they don't tell you how to make it?

I need somebody who can make potions. A witch. A witch...

Angela. She owes me for saving her life on Vroengard, even if she swore never to speak to me again. It's time to call in that debt.

_**Day 35 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Last time I met her, it was on Vroengard. I'll start searching there, but I don't think she'll have stayed there. She likes to be where the action is, after all, and Vroengard is nothing but a ghost island now.

I have to find her. Quickly.

_**Day 38 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

I'm casting out mentally, to make the job faster. There's nobody on this whole bloody island except maybe lemurs.

Action. Where is there action now? Narda? Teirm? Dras-Leona, Belatona, Feinster? Surda?

Aberon.

Aberon! The treaty. The treaty talks were held there, and there'll most likely be talks again there. If there's any action on this whole continent, it will be there.

Three days to Aberon.

_**Day 41 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Had Aderes land me in a deserted field a few miles away from Aberon. In the city and searching.

_**Day 42 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Nothing yet.

_**Day 43 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

I can't be wrong. I can't afford to be wrong. She has to be here, somewhere. Somewhere...I'll check the outskirts.

_**Day 44 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Found her. Living in the woods at the eastern edge of Aberon.

She was none too pleased, but then again I'm not particularly in the mood for niceties either. She hates me? Fine. Wants to ignore me? Fine. But not at Selena's expense. Aderes and I saved her life, however crudely, and my actions are not to be paid for by Selena's life.

She agreed, in the end. It'll be ready by tomorrow.

_**Day 45 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Got it. Returning to Norwood...I can't be too late.

_**Day 46 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

She's still alive. Thin, pale, but alive.

I gave her the potion...nothing's changed so far. What if Angela gave me some poison or the other, or just colored water? It can't be. She's not that dishonorable.

Gods, if Selena dies, I'll _kill_ her...

_**Day 53 of Remmus. 371 AR**_

Selena's getting better! Color has come back into her cheeks and she's gaining weight back. Noticeably, with her cheeks losing that parched, hollow look. Her eyes are brighter, and her temperature's back to normal.

Thank the gods, she's better. She's alive, and she's _healthy_. She'll be fine.

_**Day 65 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

She walked today, an entire circuit around our bedroom without falling down a single time. Admittedly, she did come close, but still.

It's a good sign.

_**Day 68 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Selena and I made love again today, the first time since her illness. She was glowing by the end of it, a vibrant, healthy blush on her face. My Aiedail is whole once more—in mind, body, and spirit.

_**Day 70 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Today I got a letter from Uru'baen. The treaty talks are scheduled for the end of this season; I will have to leave soon.

Galbatorix inquired into Selena's health, asking if she was better. He also offered his condolences for her family's deaths. Selena did not seem particularly reassured when I passed this bit of news on.

_**Day 71 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Murtagh walked today! And perhaps I'm already jumping ahead a bit too far, but I want to take him flying on Aderes already. Or take him horseback riding...I was joking, Aderes. No mere horse can measure up to you, of course.

But honestly, it's an idea. I truly do think that Murtagh will be a Rider someday—it should make sense that he should love the freedom of flying as well as I do, as well as Selena does.

In any case, it will have to wait. I have to leave for Surda in about a week or so.

_**Day 76 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

We went into the garden today. In the height of remmus, the garden is truly flourishing. Mostly with weeds, as nobody's touched it recently. Still, splashes of color run throughout the greenery, bringing life to the ground. Selena seems to blossom amongst the flowers, as if she were kin to the vibrancy of remmus.

_**Day 81 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Time to go. Hopefully, it won't take too long—barely two weeks last time, if I recall correctly. Then again, it might just be another flurry of temporary this and temporary that and let's all come back a few seasons later to gabble again.

Orlane will be coming, as before. Somehow this thought does not thrill me. It's not that he's a thoroughly unpleasant scumball, of course—it's something about that oily matter of his that irritates me to no end.

_**Day 82 of Remmus, 371 AR**_

Another lavishly prepared feast with peacocks in marinade sauce and roasted halibut with garlic and avocado. Nothing I haven't eaten before, but also nothing that I'd wish to eat again.

Orlane and I have settled into the Empire's embassy in Aberon. I don't know if Angela is still here, but if she is, she has made a studious point of avoiding me. Not anything that I wasn't expecting, of course.

Talks begin in two days.

_**Day 3 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

What is he thinking? If Orlane cares to bang his head against the stone of diplomacies, let him. But don't imply that I had anything to do with your idiotic scheme!

Today, Orlane actually spoke during the talks. He's mastered the language of politics well enough that every word from his mouth was even more unctuous than usual, bringing on the weight of the Riders and royal authority to present "our imperative wish of Rider Morzan, the Empire, and I that the government of Surda should allow a certain liberty concerning Riders' actions within Surda, and a weight of responsibility should allow the Riders to command certain aspects of the government, such as the command of a select number of troops or the overseeing and government around the more delicate areas of contact between the Empire and the independent state of Surda."

How dare he drag my name into this? Does he honestly think Surda will agree to any of this? If they do, then that means the intertrade between Surda and the Empire will be entirely under our command. We will also be entitled to keep troops within Surda, which is something they will never allow. Also, as Riders, we will be granted the privilege to muck around the country however we like, and they will be powerless to stop us.

They will never agree to that, and Orlane poses the embassy as naïve fools by even suggesting it. Idiot!

_**Day 4 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

I confronted him about it today, and the sum of his response is as follows—"Well, I thought you'd be pleased. It's necessary. It's needed. Don't you want the best for the Empire?"

The best for the Empire does not entail demanding outrageous things that will never come true as long as Surda is independent! He disgraces us by this foolish request, pressing in a way that contains all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

I will speak to the embassy tomorrow, to try to erase the harm that he has done.

_**Day 5 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Good. They've graciously bowed over it; Gemsworth and the Surdan ambassador, Maskiron, have moved onwards to more important matters than flaunting our egos in Surda.

Orlane accepted my speech with calmly, his face calm and serene. He does not seem to mind in the least, which in itself is suspicious.

_**Day 7 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

The second draft of the treaty has been written. If it is approved tomorrow, then we are all free to go until further notice. Further notice hopefully meaning a few seasons later, if not years.

Should I tell Galbatorix about Orlane's outrageous request? He should know that Orlane isn't cut out to be an ambassador, for certain.

_**Day 9 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

I have returned to Uru'baen. Galbatorix raised an eyebrow at my report of Orlane's actions, with the hinted reply that I should be wary now. Orlane is not likely to forgive this, no matter what serene mask he may wear.

I'll be ready, in any case. I should renew the ward spells around Norwood just in case, I think. Aderes and I will fly back to Norwood tomorrow.

_**Day 10 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

After returning to Norwood, I spent most of the day with Selena before circling Norwood at night. The ward spells are strong and secure, but I renewed them anyway. If Orlane or any of his nasty magics or minions should so much set a toe on this land, I will know.

_**Day 15 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Well, there's no sign of anything yet, so I suppose I should relax my guard. Besides, sending a heap of assassins doesn't really seem like Orlane's style. Even for him, it's a bit too blunt.

I am settling nicely back into the pattern of life at home, if I do say so myself. Murtagh seems to have grown. Again. But as I've said before, he's always growing, isn't he?

I think I'll take him flying soon.

_**Day 22 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Well!

Selena may blush a lot, but when she flies into a true rage, her face goes pale. Her eyes widen, and every single word is laced with the righteous fury of a wronged mother.

I took Murtagh flying, as I've been planning to for months. Unfortunately, Selena did not seem to share this ambition—when we returned (Murtagh being in perfect condition and laughing giddily), Selena was there to greet us with a furious lecture punctuated with much gesturing and screaming.

I acted properly contrite at that time even through Aderes's snide comments in my head, but I can't help but laugh now in the privacy of my study. Selena was just like a tigress protecting her cub, with all the fury and grace of the magnificent feline.

I have an odd sense of humor, I know.

_**Day 27 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Selena's brother is alive—we received the news just today. I'm not too certain of the precise details, but it has something to do with...well, I'm not sure what. All I got out of Selena was a garbled mess about her father and somebody named Marian before she fled to her room.

She should be relieved, shouldn't she? I hope this doesn't throw her back into shock again.

_**Day 29 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

No shock in sight. All I got was a letter to send back to her brother. I'll send a messenger out with it later.

_**Day 40 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Orlane has dropped by for a little visit. The alarm spells worked all right, but his demeanor was so friendly it was disarming. And as he has mental barriers, I cannot probe his mind to figure out just what his intentions are.

He does carry with him some updates regarding the treaty in Surda, though. He'll stay with us for dinner and be out by late tonight.

Nevertheless, I will keep an eye on him.

_**Day 44 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Four servants died today, and many were incapacitated with severe abdomen pain. If I hadn't worked healings upon the servants, I think that the number would be as much as ten times higher.

Damn it! How could I have missed it? Orlane, curse his bloody soul, poisoned some of the food and water with Fricai Andlat. Catimarius, the unfortunate servant who tastes our food before we eat it, is dead. He was one of the first to go.

I should have been more watchful. Even so, Orlane will pay for this.

_**Day 48 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Aderes and I found him. He was expecting us, of course, hoping to overpower us. Ambushed us in a stretch of deserted woodland on Termain's back.

Idiot. If he thinks he can best me in a display of sheer power, he is _wrong_. It has always been known to everybody but his own inflated little head, and tonight proved it. He'll turn back—eventually. Maybe by then he'll be so sick of sharing nuts with Termain that he'll behave himself.

At any rate, his looks are much improved as a squirrel, don't you think?

_**Day 49 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Returned to Norwood. Selena's face was slightly upset, closing the topic of the reason for my absence. My Selena—wonderful, but naïve.

_**Day 62 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Today Selena asked me if we could go see her brother. He's apparently holing up their grandmother's estate, and that's why he isn't a pile of ashes on the ground right now.

Well—why not? It's a good idea. Sometime in retniw, though, near Murtagh's birthday. I think Murtagh's birthday would be a good time for him to meet his extended family.

_**Day 72 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Triannon has brought to it to my attention, and I have to say I agree—we need more servants. Norwood only had about sixteen to begin with, and the loss of four is felt greatly. New servants would ease the strain for the ones we have now.

Selena has taken up this task cheerfully. It's surprising just how many prospective would-be servants are out there, even for an estate as infamous as the Rider Morzan's and all. At least a dozen have flocked by today, vying for the positions.

I'll leave it to Selena and Triannon to decide. They are much better suited for this than I.

_**Day 74 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

In the end Selena hired five, just because she couldn't make up her mind. Triannon has also begun taking them under her wing, teaching them the ways of the manor. Incidentally, one of them is her nephew.

_**Day 76 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

I went into Murtagh's room today, intending to take him outside, when I saw that nephew of Triannon's with him. Whatever his name is. Murtagh was _cooing_, that sound that he normally only makes around Aderes, Selena and I. Selena didn't seem to mind, either—she was sitting placidly in a chair, reading a book and ignoring the world in general.

Fine. I won't play circles with myself, so I'll admit it—I resent him. That nephew, Tonnac or Tonic or _whatever_ his name is. This is the first time that I've seen Murtagh interacting pleasantly with somebody as a—a _friend_. Not a caretaker or a nanny, but a friend that isn't maternal or clucks over everything you do. And it annoys me.

What irritates me most is that I have no reason to feel this way—I can't expect Murtagh to grow up a hermit, after all. I just wish—well, I wish that that nephew hadn't come to work here. So early, so much—I'm not ready to let go just yet.

_**Day 81 of Nmutua, 371 AR**_

Oh, bloody hell. It's noticeable. Today Selena gave me this pointed _look_ that said something along the lines of, _You're being a fool_. And yes, I am. I glower visibly whenever the nephew, Tornac, enters the room, especially when Murtagh follows him like an adoring duckling.

This is _ridiculous_.Ugh.

_**Day 1 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

It's a new season, and with it has come snow! Selena, Murtagh and I spent the day outside, coated with white pearly flakes. A good four inches have fallen—not bad for the first snow.

Tornac was occupied with chores, which makes me inexplicably smug. Yes, it's a despicable character trait of mine to gain satisfaction in this thought, but I'll just have to live with it.

Selena seems noticeably excited as the tenth of retniw approaches. I must admit that I am a bit enthusiastic myself.

_**Day 10 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

We have left for the grandmother's old estate. We should arrive there in about two days or so. Murtagh seems to enjoy roughing it out in the wild, gleefully romping about the tent and pulling the stakes up. I had to tie them down with magic, in the end.

_**Day 13 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

We have arrived at the estate. Garrow, the brother, was thrilled to see Selena and Murtagh, and guardedly happy to see me. Marian, his wife (I think), was excited to have guests over. The packs of dogs are happy to see anyone who feeds them. They did scatter at the sight of Aderes, however, which is why the great lump is busy sulking. I suppose I'd better go comfort him.

_**Day 15 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Murtagh is one year old today.

So. It was a party that I think many one-year-olds would envy, were they capable of such emotion. Selena and Marion managed to rustle up a masterpiece of a cake, which was promptly ruined as Murtagh started to throw handfuls of it around. The dogs, of course, were ecstatic—meat isn't the only thing they'll wolf down without pause.

He received a suitable pile of presents, I suppose—a stuffed lion from Marian, a silver knife from Garrow, a quilt from Selena, a necklace from me. He seemed to like them well enough, although I saw Selena squirrel away the knife until he's old enough not to stab himself with it.

Well, it was a good first birthday. I think he liked it, and that's all that really matters.

_**Day 19 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Garrow and I are both early wakers, I have discovered. Dawn is spent in silence, but somehow there is no connotation of discomfort or unpleasantness about it.

It seems that he has truly accepted me as Selena's guardian now, and as the guardian of Murtagh. In return, I think I have learned to respect him, absurd as that sounds. At least there is no resentment rising up whenever he plays with Murtagh.

_**Day 23 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

We have returned to Norwood. Incidentally, that reminds me—Selena's birthday is in two days, isn't it? Huh. All these birthdays in one season.

What to get her? Once again, that dilemma rises—jewelry, clothes; she has them all. I suppose I could get her another wolf pup, but I suspect that the memories would be too painful. Besides, I don't know if I can find wolf pups again in retniw.

What else, then? What else lives, what other life can be vibrant enough to erase the shadow of Sereda? The only thing that springs to mind right now is a dragon, but heaven knows that'll never happen.

Maybe Galbatorix has an idea? I'll ask him.

_**Day 24 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

I asked Galbatorix, idly throwing the example of dragons at him, at which point he interjected that while dragons were certainly not available, another mythical creature just might be. When I questioned, he reminded me with a lazy smile about our days at Vroengard, and the phoenix nest we discovered there.

To say I was surprised is an understatement, and I was even more shocked when he told me he had a few baby phoenixes in the menagarie. The phoenixes we saw back then were _huge._They are much like dragons in the manner that they live for long ages and grow to huge sizes, and roosting mothers are very protective of their young. How Galbatorix managed to steal away baby phoenixes is a mystery to me.

But, well, it does solve the matter of Selena's birthday present. I think I'll go to Uru'baen's markets later, see what else I can add to the gift of a phoenix.

_**Day 25 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Selena has taken to the phoenix wonderfully. She did seem as surprised as I was initially, though, her face brightening with a blush of astonishment.

Also, I gave her a silver music box that I found in Uru'baen's markets. The craftsman who sold it showed me different cylinders that would play different tunes when inserted, and I chose a lullaby that is well known throughout Alagaesia.

I think she liked it.

_**Day 42 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

The weather has been oddly warm these past few days, but today it started to drop. Clouds are gathering, too—I think we might have a decent blizzard by tomorrow. At the very least, the next day.

_**Day 44 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Yes! The snowstorm hit with a beautiful, wild vengeance. I'm going out!

_**Later**_

Selena has refused in her most insistent tone to let me go out. Says it's suicide to step foot outside right now. Whatever.

_**Day 46 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

The storm cleared up enough today for Murtagh, Selena and I to go out. Selena and I got into a snowball fight; Aderes came in a couple minutes later. Murtagh joined in with clumsy but eager enthusiasm—the sight of him trying to lift one of Aderes's snowballs is memorable. He never got them so much as an inch off the ground, but it was a very valiant effort indeed.

The drifts of snow are hip-deep—it will take days, if not weeks, for them to melt. Wonderful!

_**Day 47 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Summons from Galbatorix. Via scrying glass, not messenger—the roads are still blocked. It sounds urgent, though.

Aderes and I are leaving for Uru'baen.

_**Day 48 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Surda has violated the treaty. Two dozen Surdan soldiers in civilian clothing were found within Empire territory near Furnost—half-dead with hypothermia and frostbite, but in violation nevertheless. Maskiron claims that they were acting entirely on their own—deserters, or something similar. Listening to him, Surda was not intending anything in terms of rebellion and never has.

According to preliminary probing by questioners by Furnost, two of the captured men are sergeants. One of them, who later died, is a captain. Why would they desert? And in the dead of retniw? For what purpose?

Or were they ordered there for some subterfuge mission by the Surdan government in an attempt to undermine the Empire, only caught by nature's wrath? If that were true, it only raises another question—is Surda aiding and/or harboring the Varden, as we have suspected? There is no other reason I can think of as to why they are poking around in the Empire if that were true.

The soldiers are currently held in Furnost. They will be transported to Uru'baen as soon as the roads clear for further questioning.

_**Day 51 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

They're dead. Every last one of them. Died from 'mysterious, unexplainable reasons;' the guards down at Furnost can't make head nor tail of it. Death-spells, perhaps, to kep them from talking?

Well.

I can't jump to conclusions entirely yet, but this may be cause for war if we truly felt like pressing the issue. Of course, Maskiron will dither and flutter, and there will be diplomacies to slog through before anything definite arises. Still—the treaty states no Surdan soldiers outside the five-mile radius of the border. We do have that particular edge, at least.

_**Day 53 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

The snow is noticeably melting; only knee-deep now, and what's left is slush. Pity. I rather liked it.

Still, as the snow melts, the likelier it is that I will have to leave. What with Orlane hiding in a hole eating acorns now, the job of playing ambassador's backup will fall solely to me. Galbatorix might try to partner me up again, but somehow I don't think he will.

_**Day 55 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

A magician down at Furnost confirms that death-spells killed the soldiers—the aorta in every one is pinched off. This puts Surda into an even more complicated situation now—if the men truly were deserters, then why bother to kill them in such a clandestine manner? Just ask that we hand them over and do the job publicly.

Those soldiers do belong or are associated with something Surda wants to hide. I'm sure of it.

_**Day 59 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

I won't be here to watch Murtagh grow.

If we do choose to press this advantage, to reclaim Surda—how long will it take? How many seasons; how many years? Gods, he'll be a toddler, an adolescent, an adult in the time it takes to blink. All those years, and I'll have been absent.

The—the order came today. I leave for Surda soon; an emergency council has been called together to discuss the violation of this treaty. I have to scout out the scene, see if Surda _is_ supporting the Varden behind our back...and it will take so much time. Seasons. Galbatorix estimates one; I, two.

Leaving Selena for two seasons? Leaving _Murtagh?_ Unprotected? Unguarded? Yes, I know I must...so delicate a job, anyone else would only mess it up. But, _still_. I just wish...anyway.

Duty is duty.

Aderes and I leave tomorrow.

_**Day 61 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

We left. Arrived in Surda.

_**Day 62 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Surda offers its humblest apologies for violating the treaty and such. Gemsworth seems positively gleeful, having found a crack in the Surdan façade, shoving it for all he's worth. Miguazaki, the general who's in charge of the troops at the border, has given me a company of soldiers should push come to shove.

_**Day 64 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Apparently, everything can be blamed upon 'independent, unsupported rebels who act without Surdan knowledge or authority'. For example—the soldiers were independent, unsupported rebels. The mysterious magician who killed them was an independent, unsupported rebel too. Anyone who has ever looked at the Empire cross-eyed is also an independent, unsupported rebel. Bottom line being, they don't know anything, so don't ask them. It's all the fault of _somebody else_out there.

So, end result? Gemsworth has pushed for a revision of the treaty. A _permanent_ treaty, with every single minute detail pounded out so as to avoid 'misunderstandings' between the Empire and Surda again. And it's so amazingly important that the Surdan king himself is coming to the treaty talks, ready to further complicate the webs of politics.

I'm not taking this. The talk is just too smooth, too polished—it's almost as if it's rehearsed. They're falling over themselves to lick our shoes; I think Orlane's tact might even win out here if we asked for it. They're trying too hard to make us forget that there were _Surdan soldiers within Empire territory,_who were later killed by somebody who wanted to hide _something_.

I can afford to wait. They won't be able to keep up this oily semblance much longer.

_**Day 67 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Nothing seems out of place. Yet, anyway.

_**Day 71 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Talks are proceeding...the storm seems to have blown over. But it can't, have it? Not yet.

_**Day 74 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Hell.

I waited too long, trying to get them to crumble. But it seems that they grow more polished and at ease every day. I have lost my advantage to push aggressively, to demand war or severe retribution as a price for violation of the treaty.

Talks are dragging on at a snail's pace. Now that we have vouched for a _permanent_ treaty, every single detail must be dithered over before grudgingly receiving the council's approval.

I wonder how everything is at home? They must be having a better time than I am here.

_**Day 81 of Retniw, 371 AR**_

Nothing much else. I am politely but firmly rebuffed from any attempts at investigating, even at leaving Aberon. If they do indeed have something to hide, they have grown remarkably good at hiding it.

_**Day 13 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

I can't push too hard against the diplomats for fear of sparking a huge flurry of debate. I'm beginning to think—traitorous as these thoughts are—to just let the offense go. Maybe—well, we can pounce on them for their next Varden-suspicious offense, can't we? This chance is gone.

In other news...I received a letter from Norwood today—they are well, and awaiting my return. Murtagh is learning to write, I can see—big, childish scrawls litter the back of the page. I can't quite understand what he's trying to convey, but it's the thought that counts. I should send a letter back.

Meanwhile, I twiddle my thumbs here.

_**Day 26 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

Yes, we have most definitely lost our chance. No, let me rephrase that—_I_ lost the chance. Yes? Brilliant. Just brilliant. Even Gemsworth seems to have forgotten the incident, dismissing it as...whatever.

Well, I can consider it a vacation, maybe? An exchange trip? Aberon does have some very pretty parks and gardens, though they seem to wilter when compared to my memories of Selena's garden. Or perhaps I'm just prejudiced.

_**Day 37 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

I have purchased several different plants to bring home to Selena. Farther south than Norwood, Aberon has several more tropical plants that don't thrive naturally in Norwood. Selena would like them, I think.

On other news...no, not much. Same as ever.

_**Day 42 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

I sent another letter to Selena today. Not much to say, really.

_**Day 55 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

Galbatorix contacted me via scrying-glass today. He seemed puzzled by my lack of action, by failing to corner the Varden's hold on Surda.

I tried to explain it to him—how I had dallied too long, trying to piece together the discrepancies in their actions. But it sounded false, even to my own ears—even as I tried to explain. He obviously thought so, as he closed the link brusquely.

This...well, I have no one to blame for myself for this. Yet I can't leave until the talks are completed—I must fulfill that part of my duty, at least.

_**Day 69 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

What?

I felt something. Just a flash. I wasn't actively looking for it, so I don't know what I felt. But it was a mental disturbance of some kind—a mind, perhaps? A spell? It wasn't there long enough for me to identify who or what it was.

Perhaps it'll show up again? It's something to do, in any case.

_**Day 72 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

I haven't felt that mysterious disturbance again, whatever it is, since that day. However, I do have other news—General Miguazaki has been rotated back into the Empire, and General Elander has taken his place. The company of men I've been given has been replaced with new men, too, as their period of required service is over.

_**Day 79 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

The treaty talks seem to be winding up. I think. They were talking about writing a conclusion today, which certainly sounds like good news.

_**Day 83 of Gnirps, 372 AR**_

I felt it again. This time I _was_ actively looking for it (or at least somewhat alert), and I think it's a person. Only what person, I'm not too sure yet. Aderes, of course, thinks it's all in my head and I'm imagining it out of sheer boredom. He might even be right.

_**Day 7 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

Received another letter from Selena today. I'll write a reply later.

_**Day 11 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

It has been quiet these days. Even Gemsworth seems to have run out of steam; the entire committee seems to have gained an air of, "Let's just get this over with, shall we?" Sounds good to me, if nobody else.

I might even be able to return to Norwood soon.

_**Later**_

General Elander wants to see me? Jasper, one of the soldiers, just rushed in, all panicked and eyes wide. I suppose it must be very urgent, though I'm not too sure on why it can't wait till morning.

I should go, I suppose.

_**Day 12 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

No. _No!_

It's a trick. A lie. A new torture that they've made up to torment me. Aderes is _not_ dead. He won't be, he can't be, I will not _let_ him be dead.

They're all lying to me. This has to be a dream, a nightmare, a—a—okay, so fine. We were ambushed. But my mind's just playing tricks on me, because there's no way Aderes could've carried me from Surda back to Norwood if he's dead, could he have? I've been thinking, right, and that's the only thing that's making sense. So you see, it must be a lie. It—it has to be.

I won't believe it.

_**Day 13 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

Aderes hasn't come back yet, but that's all right because you never wake up from a dream until whatever god or demon out there decides you wake up. But maybe, you know, if I go through everything logically, I can figure out why and how Aderes got lost.

And then maybe I can find him sooner. He'll be whining his head off when I do, of course, complaining about the injustice of this miserable world and how completely sad he is, when actually he's been having the time of his life. Typical.

From the beginning. Yes, we were ambushed. The troops Elander gave to me were traitors, which means that I need to inform Galbatorix that the general in charge of the troops at the border is a spy. But anyway, that's beside the point.

So, I went to see Elander, right? Only it wasn't Elander. It was—it was _them!_ Jasper turned onto me first, followed by the rest of them. Them! The Varden rebels, all of them...when Aderes returns, we'll hunt them down one by one. Together. I promise.

And then after that—after—we fought. We stood our ground and fought, and then Aderes slung me onto his back and then we went. We left. And then Norwood...

Where did I lose him? Where did he go? Bloody hell, Aderes, this isn't funny. Come _back!_

_**Day 14 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

He's late. I've been waiting for so long, but he never answers me. Not one sarcastic quip or dry remark.

Where did I go wrong? Aderes, I'm sorry, all right? For whatever I did to hurt your feelings. But just answer me. One word. One insult. _Anything!_ I don't care. Just forgive me, for whatever I did.

Please...

_**Day 15 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

They keep bothering me to knock on my door. They keep calling me, they keep distrating me! Go away. Go _away_. I'm waiting for Aderes. He always comes back, you see. That's part of being Rider and dragon, after all—we can never leave each other for long. Even in death. Right? If Aderes were dead, I'd know, because I'd be dead too.

And I'm not dead. Just dreaming.

_**Day 16 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I heard him! Just for a moment, just for a second, but I'd know his voice anywhere. He's fine; I can tell. Just sulking as usual. But he'll be back soon, he promised. I'll see him again!

I'll wait for him. I have forever, after all, don't I? Besides, he won't stay away for too long. He won't. I mean, we might fight (a lot, admittedly), but in reality, we're quite joined at the hip.

You'll see. He'll come back soon.

_**Day 17 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

He's not coming.

Galbatorix came in earlier. Said he wasn't coming.

I don't know what to do.

_**Day 19 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I've been thinking. I have to kill them.

Kill them all. Kill them for taking Aderes from me. It's the only way I can stop this, just stop everything. Just stop the pain.

It's the only way I can find him.

_**Day 21 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I don't know where they are. I don't know where the hell Surda is. I don't know anything except that they're all laughing in my face and everywhere I look is another bastard who gloating at me because _Aderes is dead!_

It's a lie.

All of it. Just a filthy, sick, sardonic lie.

I can't stop it. They don't trust me. None of them do. Aderes was the only one who trusted me, who I could trust. They've vanished, you see. Off the face of this godsdamned earth. Godsdamned Alagaesia and all the cursed bastards who walk it, the lucky sods.

I just want it to stop. Is that so much to ask? But apparently yes, because I'm supposed to be Morzan the infallible, Morzan the great, Morzan the one who never is anything than a stiff, emotionless rock! Gods...

I need it to stop.

_**Day 23 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

Wonder why I never picked up alcohol before. Works better than sleep. Works better than staying awake. After all, what is there to be conscious for? What is there to work for? _Nothing!_

Aderes didn't know that, bless his little naïve soul. He didn't know the full range of stupidity humanity has. Thank the gods he died innocent. At least he didn't have to face the pissing contests that only humans can come up with. He's a dragon. He's noble. He doesn't have to put up with this.

So, I'll go back to Norwood. Not that there's anything there but the stupidity and idiocy of humanity. Do I care?

_**Day 29 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

They're trying to keep it from me, to hide the barrels where they think I won't look. Hah! They don't know the half of it. Triannon, Selena—they think I'm so stupid that I won't even _try_ to find it. Witless, all of them.

They're trying to help. Right. _Whatever_. They're only making it worse...with friends like that, who needs enemies, after all? They only rip the hole further apart. Alcohol—any kind—hides it. It doesn't hurt as much, can't you see? Like those children who ride their first horses—or dragons—there are times you have to let the reins go and let nature take its course!

Gods, Selena. Are you _trying_ to kill me?

_**Day 33 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

Murtagh keeps getting in my way. He's just a child, I know, and I have to make allowances. But if he crosses me one more time, if he _looks_ at me one more time—

No!

No...

I need some more to drink.

_**Day 37 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

Selena confronted me today. Tried to talk me out of drinking. Said it wasn't healthy or something.

I'll tell you what's not healthy, Selena—you stopping me. You trying to get me to remember, to rip everything wide open so I can just scream with the pain, right? That's love for you. Harsh, isn't it?

Love. That's at the root of all this. Why do we love, anyway? It's not worth it when the one you love is taken away from you. It's not worth the pain. We should all just be alone, with every man fending for himself. That's the way a perfect world would be—then, there's no way you could be hurt, is there?

_**Day 43 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I told Selena what happened. What happened that day. That night. I thought it would make it better, like after I told her about my family. But no, it only made it_worse_. Aderes died because I was overconfident, smug, a self-satisfied heap of testosterone who thought that I could take on anything. Well, guess what, I'm not. Are you happy now, Selena? Now that you know that I'm nothing, are you happy now?

_**Day 52 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I don't want to be alive. I have no _right_ to be alive. What kind of cruel fate is that, that Aderes should die and I should live? I'm not worthy of this honor, this—this—whatever you wish to call it. Twice I've escaped it now—with my father, with the Varden—both times, Fate jumped over me while striking down everybody else. Leaving the murderer alive? That's a joke for you.

Maybe I should just die. It would solve a hell lot of problems for everybody. Even Galbatorix. I failed him, after all.

_**Day 55 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

No. I can't die. Not yet. Not now.

I have to find them. I'll work it out this time. Do it rationally instead of just meandering around in the middle of nowhere. I'll scry them, I'll cast out for them, and I'll _find_ them. And when I do, I'll kill them. Not fast. Not painless. I'll tear them apart from the inside out and watch them beg to die.

And when I do...maybe it'll stop. Maybe I'll be satisfied. Maybe...maybe it won't hurt anymore.

Hah. And maybe pigs will fly, too.

_**Day 59 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I scryed them. They're outlined against a background, so I know I've seen it before. There are mountains, high up...the Beors. I'm sure of it.

Every one of them—they look so smug, now don't they? Having ruined my life. Well, you just keep smiling, because there won't be much time to do so once I find you. Nobody cares for a hero who's mad with pain, with nothing but the animal panic that always bleeds out from agony and hope.

I'll need supplies. Provisions. Maps. And a horse.

A horse.

Gods curse every single one of them. No—not gods. They don't exist anyway, so why the hell do I swear on their name? If they won't do it, I will. At least they won't stop me from exacting my vengeance, for destroying those sick bastards.

_**Day 65 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

They're trying to stop me. They don't say anything, but the look in their eyes—harsh, accusing. They think I'm mad—violent, just waiting to explode.

Well, maybe I am. No—there's no 'maybe' about it. But that doesn't give them a right to condemn me, or to charge me! They don't _understand_. Only Galbatorix does, but I have no right to face him. Not after my failure in Surda.

But I won't fail at this. Even though my life is littered with thousands of broken promises, this one I will not forget. Aderes—Aderes will not have died for nothing.

_**Day 72 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I'm leaving tomorrow. Everything's all set. All prepared. All I need is for the sun to rise, and I'm off.

They'll probably be better off without me, you know. Selena, Murtagh, Triannon, all of them. I've only been a burden these past few weeks, obsessed with my own morbid thoughts. Once the gates shut, they'll probably turn away with a laugh and get into a drunken tizzy with relief.

Aderes. Aderes would have made them understand. Foul-tempered and sarcastic as he is, that dragon has a talent for brutal tact that makes you cry the same time you are comforted. He's like that...

He _was_ like that.

_**Day 73 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

Left today. Heading southeast. Slow going.

_**Day 77 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

Out here the silence is...unbearable. No one to distract you. Nothing to turn your mind away.

I can hear him, sometimes. It's soft, but I can make every word out so distinctly. It truly is as if he were there, whispering sardonic comments into my ear. Laughing at some hidden joke from beyond the grave.

Am I mad, then? Am I well and truly insane? Or is it—impossible as it may all seem—true? Aderes's last message to me?

I wish there were some way to know.

_**Day 80 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I tried to stop drinking. I dumped out all the quantites of beer and mead that I had brought, tried to go without them, to finally accept it all. To accept the pain.

But I can't.

I can't. Everything just rushing back with all the sensitivity of a raging bear, and it's—gods, I can't stand it. Why won't somebody stop it? Stop whatever's out there that's causing this? It shouldn't hurt this much, should it? As a physical pain, tearing into your ribs, reducing you to a heap on the ground?

Make it stop! I don't care what it takes—alchohol, drugs, anything. As long as it doesn't hurt anymore.

_**Day 81 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

I found a tavern. Drank a lot. Now it doesn't hurt. Doesn't feel. Doesn't live.

So much better this way.

_**Day 85 of Remmus, 372 AR**_

Nearing the Beor Mountains.

So tired.

_**Day 1 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

Scryed them. They're in a valley. Not too far.

Bloody mountains.

_**Day 4 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

I found them.

I can hear them talking. They're lost. Can't find the Varden. Even the dwarves don't know where they are.

How very sad.

So much the better for me.

_**Day 16 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

The last one died today. Screaming in a pool of his own blood. Twitching and struggling as I ripped out his throat.

Somehow it isn't as satisfying as I thought it would be.

_**Day 19 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

Returned to civilization's outpost. Sent a letter.

Can't go back yet. I need time. More time alone.

Almost out of mead.

_**Day 23 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

Norwood.

It's another life. Another world, of which I have no part. Not anymore. Not since...Aderes died.

Maybe I shouldn't go back. If I died suddenly—mysteriously—what impact would it have upon the world? A positive one, I daresay...after all, without Aderes, I'm nothing but a drunken sot whose only positive attribute is that I can wave a sword better than most people can.

And that might not even be positive, really. Just ask the men I killed. The men I tortured in retribution for Aderes.

What would Aderes say now?

_**Day 30 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

I should go back to Norwood. Nothing here offers relief.

Farfetched at it may seem...maybe something at Norwood will make it better.

_**Day 37 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

I don't know her anymore. Their eyes are veiled, barely hiding the disgust that they must feel for me. Even Selena is different...every movement is a flinch, every word a declaration of contempt.

And Murtagh. Even a child, he must sense that I am nothing worth respecting. Worth fearing.

Worth loving.

_**Day 40 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

I cannot stay here. I'm going back to the palace. There, at least, I'll find some company in the despicable crowd of politics.

Selena...

Selena will come with me. I won't have her fleeing, falling in love with another man. If she despises me, then she'll just have to put up with it. If she scorns me, then she'll not find happiness that is undeserved.

Contemptible? Vile? Appalling? If that's the viewpoint of this world towards me, then I'll take it. Take it gladly, and reciprocate it in return.

_**Day 44 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

We return to the palace tomorrow. Selena will aid me. She knows magic, and she knows how to fight. She can help me seek out those I need, those I want. After all, just look at what she could do with Glael.

Murtagh will stay here. I don't want to see him—see those childishly accusing eyes, marking my every movement down in an unspoken black list. I don't need that, especially from him. Enough people keep track already.

_**Day 45 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

Returned to the palace. Galbatorix has accepted me again, allowed me to take up what I can in my old life at the palace despite my failure last season.

Settled into my old quarters.

_**Day 73 of Nmutua, 372 AR**_

Selena is doing well. I taught her well, if nothing else. I can't even see the hate she bears for me anymore—she's very good at hiding her emotions, I'll give her that. She'll need the guile if she's to survive court in the long run.

_**Day 1 of Retniw, 372 AR**_

Start of the fourth season. Might snow soon.

_**Day 6 of Retniw, 372 AR**_

Snowed today. If nothing else, nature's beauty still exists. Shows that there is hope out there, for some people.

It's retniw again. Wonderful. Another season goes by, another season to muck through. Another season to trudge every agonizing minute through.

Another season marks another year. Another set of birthdays.

I'll let Selena go back to Norwood for Murtagh's birthday. She's done well, after all—this might as well be a sort of reward, or whatever.

_**Day 15 of Retniw, 372 AR**_

I left Selena at Norwood earlier. She looked so—happy. So vibrant to see Murtagh again. So happy to be away from me, the tyrannical madman.

Well, it's not anything particularly new, now is it? Still, that look on her face—that joy. Strange as it is. I...it hurt, knowing that she will never show that expression to me again.

And even if she did, I wouldn't deserve it.

_**Day 25 of Retniw, 372 AR**_

Selena's birthday today. I gave her a small dagger from Uru'baen's markets.

I don't know what I was expecting, all right? Certainly not exhilaration or joy, but maybe contentment? Is that so much to ask for? One small smile?

But yes. It is, apparently. Certainly too much to ask from somebody who hates you.

_**Day 37 of Retniw, 372 AR**_

How much does she miss everything? Murtagh? Norwood? How much does she hate me, knowing that I deny her everything she wants?

I watched her today. Watched her flirt, watch her seduce, watch her play with the emotions of the men around her. She's beautiful, you know, quite good at what she does. But this isn't what she wants. This is what I force her to do.

How much longer can this go on? This semblance of pleasantry? This...facade?

_**Day 42 of Retniw, 372 AR**_

She killed today. Her first murder.

She was crying. Guilt, shame, remorse flooding her mind with a bitter, angry taste. Self-hatred. Self-reproach.

I wanted...I don't know. Better not to try. Better not to see her flinch if I should try to take her hand.

It's too easy to be hurt if you reach out.

_**Day 66 of Retniw, 372 AR**_

I can't stand it anymore. I can't stand watching her...watching that barely hidden misery in her eyes. Even if she does hate me, it isn't deserved. Or fair.

She doesn't have to be here. Once gnirps comes around, I'll leave her at Norwood. Maybe...maybe it will temper the disgust she feels for me. Maybe she won't be so...so wretched at court with me.

Maybe she'll...

No. That's too much to ask. Too much to ever hope for.

_**Day 1 of Gnirps, 373 AR**_

Sent her home. Went back to the palace.

_**Day 26 of Gnirps, 373 AR**_

Rained today.

It's so stupid to feel nostalgic, but I do. I long for the days when Selena and I danced in the rain. The days when Murtagh fell face first into the snow and came up laughing. The days when Aderes was alive...

But those days are gone now, and I don't know how to get them back. I'm not too sure that I could...that I could accept them, even if it were within my power.

Aderes. Without him, I am so literally...nothing. Galbatorix won't even give me missions to do now, because I am not a Rider anymore.

All I am is a failure.

_**Day 47 of Gnirps, 373 AR**_

He's just a child, but children can be...deceitful. They can lie. They can even manipulate, young as they are. And truly, Murtagh is not that young anymore. Two is plenty old enough to start training in the guile of this world.

He doesn't love me. He didn't mean it, at any rate. How could he? Maybe he...doesn't understand the meaning of the word. Maybe he...

He doesn't understand how much love can hurt you. How much betrayal can destroy you.

_**Day 67 of Gnirps, 373 AR**_

I'm leaving the palace. Going to...going to somewhere that might somehow heal things. Impossible as that may be.

_**Day 73 of Gnirps, 373 AR**_

I reached Isenstar today, where I first met Selena. I thought that...maybe the memory of the place, the silent beauty that lay in the wild...I thought maybe that would bring everything back. Something. Anything.

It didn't.

_**Day 1 of Remmus, 373 AR**_

First day of the second season.

_**Day 12 of Remmus, 373 AR**_

It has been one year since Aderes died. One year.

How times change.

_**Day 33 of Remmus, 373 AR**_

I have returned to the palace.

_**Day 68 of Remmus, 373 AR**_

Galbatorix came to see me today. Didn't say much. Just remarked that people can sometimes surprise you, in a rather unpleasant way.

Well, what did he expect?

_**Day 79 of Remmus, 373 AR**_

Almost the start of the third season. Almost time for Selena to return.

Does she still hate me?

_**Day 1 of Nmutua, 373 AR**_

I don't know what to make of the look in her eyes. It seems more...resigned, perhaps? Uncertain, unhappy, but...

I don't know. This is—this is silly. Absurd. But as it is, I can't help but hope that maybe...just maybe, she loves me.

I'm being a fool. Why am I _looking_ to be hurt again?

_**Day 11 of Nmutua, 373 AR**_

I know _why…_

I miss it. I miss the security in knowing that somebody will wait for you, will be there for you. I miss the light in Selena's eyes, the blush in her cheeks. Most of all, I miss—I miss the soft, gentle love of another life entwined with yours.

Maybe that's why people love. So that they can have this refuge, this promise of sanctuary. Even the pain, when it is lost—for what can be gathered, it is worth the price.

I lost Aderes. I lost him, and ever since...well, it's my own fault that things have turned out the way it have. But it's...maybe, it's not too late to try to repair things.

Maybe she does—_is_—willing to accept me.

_**Day 19 of Remmus, 373 AR**_

We made love today, and...in the passion, I could almost believe it. I want to believe it.

But—

She's pregnant. I didn't plan it out that way. But I suppose since she has been pregnant several times already that I have grown sensitive to it. But she is, and does not know it yet.

Once she does know, though...will she trust me enough to tell me? Will she—was the love today real, or simply a falsehood?

I'm not too sure if I want to know the answer.

_**Day 41 of Remmus, 373 AR**_

She found out today; the healer told her.

Now I wait.

_**Day 67 of Remmus, 373 AR**_

She hesitates. Always, it's _almost, almost_—but no. She doesn't.

What does that tell me?

_**Day 11 of Retniw, 373 AR**_

Murtagh's birthday draws near, yet I have not heard the news from her personally. I'm beginning to think...well, that my conclusions were false. That there is indeed not a drop of love or trust in her for somebody like me.

It hurts more than I would have thought, opening the hole that Aderes left. But I have to hope, don't I? I have to wait. Maybe she's just not ready. She'll tell me in time, I'm sure. I just have to...wait.

_**Day 15 of Retniw, 373 AR**_

I took her home to see Murtagh for her birthday. She was so passionately happy, bringing forth a smile on her face that I haven't seen in such a long time. One that she hasn't shown to me for a long time.

She cares for Murtagh, for nature, for Norwood. But she doesn't care enough to tell me that she is pregnant.

_**Day 41 of Retniw, 373 AR**_

If we had just met Selena, Aderes would say that I am being a fool, falling over my own feet in a silly attempt to catch her attention. But what would he say to a situation like this? What would he _do_in a situation like this?

I want to know what she is thinking. What she feels, what she...but to do so, I would have to reach into her mind. Not impossible, of course, but—I'm afraid to know.

I haven't done something like that with her since when we first met back at Isenstar. Back then, her mind was avid curiosity, surprise, and something oddly similar to reverence. If I chose to probe her mind now, what would I find?

_**Day 68 of Retniw, 373 AR**_

She will never tell me. She will never trust me enough to tell me.

I watched her today. Watched her play with Murtagh. Watched her kiss him, love him, and treasure him in a way that she will never show to me again.

I was a fool to try to regain her love.

I was a fool to open myself up to the pain again.

_**Day 80 of Retniw, 373 AR**_

I have given up waiting. There's no use for it, anyway.

She doesn't care.

_**Day 10 of Gnrips, 373 AR**_

She loves Murtagh. She loves _him_while scorning me.

A _child_...

Taking my Selena from me. Turning her love away from me.

I can't! I can't. I won't.

_No_.

_**Day 12 of Gnrips, 373 AR**_

I hurt him...

I don't remember what I did yesterday. I don't remember drinking, and drinking, and finally getting so drunk that the rage explodes to the surface and launches Zar'roc at my son—

Gods, what I done? What have I become? I—this is—this is just something that my _father_ would do, hurting a child that's so young, so innocent—

But I _have_ become him. I've become my father.

_**Day 13 of Gnrips, 373 AR**_

I can't stay here. I can't stay here facing him, facing his bleeding body, facing the reproachful eyes of the healers. But most of all, I can't face the betrayal in Selena's eyes, knowing that I truly have destroyed _everything_...

I have to go. I have to go back to the palace.

_**Day 15 of Gnrips, 373 AR**_

I've been trying to hide, but everything is an accusation at me. And I don't have a rationalization, or explaination, or anything.

Galbatorix came in to see me. I couldn't tell him, but he knows. He—gods, I've disappointed him. Disappointed everyone. If Aderes were alive, he would treat me with the contempt I've richly deserved.

And I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to make everything better.

_**Day 24 of Gnrips, 373 AR**_

I drift these days. There's nothing for me to do, to work at, to distract me. After all, what am I but a dragonless Rider, a drunken bastard like my father who hurt my son?

Nothing can...nothing can bring things back to normal now. Life, everything...it's all been broken beyond repair.

_**Day 32 of Gnrips, 373 AR**_

One of the dragon eggs are gone.

They tried to get all three, but only one was lost. _One_, and one of the thieves was left behind. He told us that the others have gone to Gil'ead. _Gil'ead_.

I have to do this. It's my only chance. I need to do something, I need something to succeed. Gods, I _need_ this. It's my only chance to—to somehow repair things, to—it's as if I succeeded at something, nobody would—I could—

Hell, I don't know! I just have to. I _have_ to. Even if Galbatorix won't send me, I'm going anyway.

I'm going _now_.

_**Day 35 of Gnrips, 373 AR**_

_Brom_.

The thief is Brom.

Why do I find this amazingly ironic? Both former Riders, one chasing the other with the intent to kill. There's just something so hilarious about all of this. This situation.

Everything.

_**Day 36 of Gnrips, 373 AR**_

Who am I?

There are several ways you could put that question, I suppose. On the surface, my name is Morzan. A former Rider. A sick, pathetic failure who's done nothing but throw himself further into the filth of politics ever since going mad and losing it all. His family, his dragon, his wife, maybe even his son. Most of all, losing their love and trust.

A fitting eulogy? Or—unlikely as it may seem—may there be something more? Something...

I don't know. Well, that seems to be the sum of my life these days—the mess I've gotten myself into, the alcohol, the lies, the deceit. I suppose, if people even bother to, that I'll be commemorated as a madman. A lunatic. An unpredictable, unstable idiot.

Why am I writing about this? Well, Brom and I have arranged a duel of sorts, I suppose you could call it. It quite gentlemanly, to say the least. We'll be all fine and polite until the business of killing each other starts. If nothing else, one thing is certain—only one of us will survive.

I don't know how this tale will end. Maybe Lady Fate will follow her own predictable path and skip over me once more. Or, maybe, just maybe, she'll surprise me.

Wouldn't that be funny if Brom killed me? If Fate finally claimed me at the hands of ones who life I had destroyed? It seems rather fitting, really, considering how I've paid the favor to others in the past. My debt should be long due by now, I think—my family died, didn't they? Azula, Hestia, Evelyn and _Murtagh_. And—Aderes. Gods. _Aderes_.

Full circle. There's a saying about that, isn't there? Something about the wheel turning...I suppose cruel tendencies do get passed down from generation to generation. My father stabbed me, so I throw a sword at my son. My father killed my mother, and I turned Selena away from me from my actions. Either way, everything's destroyed in the end.

So I killed my father. If Brom kills me...well, that's truly déjà vu.

Besides, even if he did do so, I don't suppose there would be much missed. There's nothing left, after all. Nothing but ashes left, shards of what was once a flawless pane of ice.

There's something strangely fitting about that.

**End**

**Well.**

**This was very difficult to write. I'm still fairly worried that it's too ranty, too dull, too...whatever. But this took me much longer to write than I thought it would, and so I'm satisfied with what came out. Even though I'm now half-blind from staring a computer screen all day. All the days, I suppose, since it took me waay more than just one day.**

**PLEASE review! This took me a really, really LONG time and I would appreciate reviews so much. They're what keeps the muses fed and happy. XD**

**So, anyway. I hoped you liked it.**

**Once again…review!**


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